


He needs to fix his eyeliner

by RealReggietales



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Kyoutani is sad, Kyoutani scratches himself, M/M, Self-Harm, Soulmate AU, There is some language in this, This is not related to my other fic, Unrequited Love, mentioned Watari Shinji - Freeform, please be aware of the tags, please be aware of this, sorry for the confusion!, tw for self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27498916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealReggietales/pseuds/RealReggietales
Summary: A girl comes to practice.She's Yahaba's soulmate.Kyoutani needs to fix his eyeliner.
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Yahaba Shigeru/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 67





	He needs to fix his eyeliner

**Author's Note:**

> So I just want to start this off by saying this is the first like ANGST angst that I feel I've ever written. I almost cried writing this.  
> Also, please, please be aware that Kyoutani does scratch, on purpose, and does draw blood.

The bathroom was unusually cold.

Kyoutani was sitting against the wall, in the corner of the room, tears running down his face.

_This fucking sucked._

Now he’d have to redo his eyeliner.

_(But that’s not the only reason you’re crying, is it?)_

No, it’s not.

He hears footsteps outside the bathroom, and hurriedly throws himself into a stall.

He can’t be caught like this. It’d ruin his reputation, he’d be seen as weak, and worst of all: it would spread to the team, and then they would question why he was crying, and-

There’s no use dwelling on it.

He’ll probably get kicked off soon.

He’s seen the dissappointed looks on Yahaba’s face when he comes in late, not even bothering with an excuse, because who’s going to believe that this angry, bad, mean kid was driving his sister to school.

He sees the disappointed looks in _everyone_ when he gets too worked up, and misses all his serves, his receives, and his spikes go out of bounds.

So, yeah, most likely after this, he’ll get kicked off.

“ _Sorry,”_ he imagines them saying. _“You just weren’t worth it.”_

This brings even more sobbing, and tears.

He was fine earlier, his wrist was carefully hidden by gauze, with the excuse of ‘my dog likes to scratch’, so he had nothing to worry about from that.

But then, this girl came in.

Anyone could see she was stunning, blowing half the room into shock at just her hair, oh, how _perfect_ it was.

But Kyoutani can’t afford to be bitter at how much better she looks, at how she can turn Yahaba’s head much easier then he _ever_ could.

No, Kyoutani just wants to practice.

He picks up a ball, and turns towards the nearest member, ready to start playing again, when he notices that no one is moving. They’re still staring at the girl.

_Only, it’s not just the girl._

Now, they’re staring at the girl and _Yahaba_.

He had her in a tight embrace, kissing her sweetly.

Anyone could see it.

They were _soulmates._

Kyoutani’s wrist stings.

Yahaba finally lets go of her, and turns back towards them with a clap, signaling the resume of practice.

She _giggles_ and runs to the stands, to watch.

_Oh god._

Kyoutani can feel the tears coming. He makes it through a few more serves, trying to hold off the waterfall of tears.

He turns towards Watari, mumbling something about not feeling well, and runs towards the bathroom.

And now he’s here, sobbing in a bathroom stall.

He tears off the gauze around his wrist.

The neat handwriting glares back at him

In nice loopy letters, is the name _Yahaba Shigeru_.

_He doesn’t want to see it._

He’s tearing at his wrist now, clawing and clawing away, with hot tears leaving a trail down his cheeks.

He keeps scratching at the name

He hopes Yahaba can _feel_ it.

He wants to make Yahaba hurt just as much as he is.

Back in his mind, he knows it’s not Yahaba’s fault.

It’s his own.

He’s the messed up one.

The one that can never get it right.

The _rusty cog in a well oiled machine._

The tears are mostly gone, his eyesight no longer blurry, and he can finally take in the damage he’s done to his wrist.

His nails are bloody, his skin thoroughly red, and blood seeps out of the rough cuts he dug in with his nail.

_Yahaba’s name is still visible._

It was all for nothing.

He’s still marked with a persons name.

He wraps the gauze back around his wrist, blood seeping through, turning the white, into red.

He’ll have to clean the cuts, and replace the gauze.

He’ll probably have scars.

But it’s not like he’s showing anyone his soulmates name soon. Or _ever_.

Kyoutani takes a paper towel and wets it, pressing it against his skin to clean the cuts.

It’s cold, and in the chill of the bathroom, he shivers.

He heads to the club room, to fix the gauze and his eyeliner.

He _refuses_ to think about anything other than fixing his eyeliner.

The pen is pressed against his eyelid, and he can’t remember when he got a clean bandage, or even opening the cap to the eyeliner tube.

His reflection in the mirror is pitiful.

He presses the eyeliner back against his eyelid.

Finally, all looks right with the other Kyoutani staring back at him.

He doesn’t _feel_ right.

Finally he heads back into the gym.

 _Everything is normal_.

Everything here was _absolutely fine_ , and he has the urge to wreck everything just to make it match what’s in his head.

“Kyoutani!” He hears. His head doesn’t snap to attention like it normally would. Instead he’s sluggish, slow in responding.

“Yeah?” Kyoutani tries to keep his voice steady, but it wavers.

It’s Yahaba, probably questioning where he was, why he was late, and all of that.

Kyoutani doesn’t answer. He looks at the team.

Watari send him a glance, pity in his eyes. He’s made the connection. Especially now that there’s blood seeping through the bandage around his wrist.

Kyoutani doesn’t even look at Yahaba, and brushes past him, with his shoulders low, and his arms wrapped around himself.

He grabs his things, and leaves.

He bumps into a person on his way out.

It’s the girl.

The one that tipped the first domino that knocked the rest of his life over.

“Oh, hi!” Her smile seems fake, but, honestly, who could genuinely smile at a person who looks like _him?_

“I think you’re a great player.” She continues, with a shy look on her face. Kyoutani just stares at her.

“Yeah… Your, uh, spikes are powerful.” She’s floundering to hold a conversation.

Finally, she relents.

“Well, nice meeting you.” As she stalks off, Kyoutani hears her mumble “Geez, what is that guy’s problem? Practice isn’t even over yet!”

She’s right. Practice isn’t over.

But he can’t stand another minute in the gym.

He has tears falling down his face, and _god he just fixed his eyeliner._

He walks out into the street.

He needs to fix his eyeliner.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you like this  
> And please be careful  
> And also please don’t hate that much on the original girl!


End file.
